Genre Fiction
![Kiersten White - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B00383USVM.jpg)
Mister Magic: A Novel
Who is Mister Magic? Former child stars reunite to uncover the tragedy that ended their show-and discover the secret of its enigmatic host-in this "skin-crawling story of pop culture fandom and ‘90s nostalgia" (Melissa Albert, author of The Hazel Woods) from the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Hide.
"It meets The Stepford Wives in this wildly compelling story that explores whether it's possible to recapture the magic of childhood."-Mallory O'Meara, Los Angeles Times bestselling author of The Lady from the Black Lagoon
Thirty years after a tragic accident shut down production of the classic children's program Mister Magic, the five surviving cast members have done their best to move on. But just as generations of cultishly devoted fans still cling to the lessons they learned from the show, the cast, known as the Circle of Friends, have spent their lives searching for the happiness they felt while they were on it. The friendship. The feeling of belonging. And the protection of Mister Magic.
But with no surviving video of the show, no evidence of who directed or produced it, and no records of who-or what-the beloved host actually was, memories are all the former Circle of Friends has.
Then a twist of fate brings the castmates back together at the remote desert filming compound that feels like it's been waiting for them all this time. Even though they haven't seen each other for years, they understand one another better than anyone has since.
After all, they're the only ones who hold the secret of that circle, the mystery of the magic man in his infinitely black cape, and, maybe, the answers to what really happened on that deadly last day. But as the Circle of Friends reclaim parts of their past, they begin to wonder: Are they here by choice, or have they been lured into a trap?
Because magic never forgets the taste of your friendship. . . .
"It meets The Stepford Wives in this wildly compelling story that explores whether it's possible to recapture the magic of childhood."-Mallory O'Meara, Los Angeles Times bestselling author of The Lady from the Black Lagoon
Thirty years after a tragic accident shut down production of the classic children's program Mister Magic, the five surviving cast members have done their best to move on. But just as generations of cultishly devoted fans still cling to the lessons they learned from the show, the cast, known as the Circle of Friends, have spent their lives searching for the happiness they felt while they were on it. The friendship. The feeling of belonging. And the protection of Mister Magic.
But with no surviving video of the show, no evidence of who directed or produced it, and no records of who-or what-the beloved host actually was, memories are all the former Circle of Friends has.
Then a twist of fate brings the castmates back together at the remote desert filming compound that feels like it's been waiting for them all this time. Even though they haven't seen each other for years, they understand one another better than anyone has since.
After all, they're the only ones who hold the secret of that circle, the mystery of the magic man in his infinitely black cape, and, maybe, the answers to what really happened on that deadly last day. But as the Circle of Friends reclaim parts of their past, they begin to wonder: Are they here by choice, or have they been lured into a trap?
Because magic never forgets the taste of your friendship. . . .
Editorial Reviews
"Mister Magic is a propulsive, exciting, often genuinely scary, endlessly compelling mystery. Imagine a trip through Twin Peaks by way of Stranger Things and Stephen King's It."-Terry Miles, author of Rabbits
"In this skin-crawling story of pop culture fandom and '90s nostalgia, Kiersten White fully delivers on her gripping premise: the troubled reunion, thirty years later, of the cast of a magical kids' show that exists only in its viewers' memories. Mister Magic walks the twilit line between wonder and terror where all the best childhood games are played."-Melissa Albert, New York Times bestselling author of The Hazel Wood
"It meets The Stepford Wives in this wildly compelling story that explores whether it's possible to recapture the magic of childhood friendship and what happens when you discover the darkness hiding underneath your memories. White's writing is guaranteed to hook you. Be careful cracking this open; Mister Magic will pull you in like a riptide."-Mallory O'Meara, Los Angeles Times bestselling author of The Lady from the Black Lagoon
"I found myself thoroughly drawn in by Mister Magic, a unique thriller with a compelling cast of characters whose past hides long-buried secrets."-Karen Cleveland, New York Times bestselling author of Need to Know
"Few books I've read capture the wonder and terror of childhood as brilliantly as Mister Magic. Both creepy and profoundly nostalgic, it's guaranteed to unsettle anyone who grew up with Barney & Friends, Sesame Street, or other children's shows-or anyone who's ever been a child. This book gave me nightmares in the best possible way."
"In this skin-crawling story of pop culture fandom and '90s nostalgia, Kiersten White fully delivers on her gripping premise: the troubled reunion, thirty years later, of the cast of a magical kids' show that exists only in its viewers' memories. Mister Magic walks the twilit line between wonder and terror where all the best childhood games are played."-Melissa Albert, New York Times bestselling author of The Hazel Wood
"It meets The Stepford Wives in this wildly compelling story that explores whether it's possible to recapture the magic of childhood friendship and what happens when you discover the darkness hiding underneath your memories. White's writing is guaranteed to hook you. Be careful cracking this open; Mister Magic will pull you in like a riptide."-Mallory O'Meara, Los Angeles Times bestselling author of The Lady from the Black Lagoon
"I found myself thoroughly drawn in by Mister Magic, a unique thriller with a compelling cast of characters whose past hides long-buried secrets."-Karen Cleveland, New York Times bestselling author of Need to Know
"Few books I've read capture the wonder and terror of childhood as brilliantly as Mister Magic. Both creepy and profoundly nostalgic, it's guaranteed to unsettle anyone who grew up with Barney & Friends, Sesame Street, or other children's shows-or anyone who's ever been a child. This book gave me nightmares in the best possible way."
Short Excerpt Teaser
One
The thing is, the doors were open that morning.
Val knows-she knows, she knows-that waking up to find both doors of their sagging cabin opened wide to the world is probably only because Dad wasn't sleeping well, and that she should tie a bell to his foot before bed tonight. Just in case.
But.
An open door is an invitation, she whispers to herself. And she keeps the doors to their cabin firmly closed all the time. She'll have one of the ranch hands rig up some sort of lock system, up high, where Dad won't be able to reach it.
That'll fix it. She can stop worrying.
She doesn't, though. She worries through the morning riding lessons, worries through lunch with the camp full of awkwardly pubescing little delights, worries through the early-afternoon group activities, more riding, cleanup. All her favorite things-especially the cleanup, knowing parents are paying a small fortune so their daughters can spend the week doing the chores Val hates most-are eaten up by the worry.
By late afternoon she's mostly shaken it off, though. Sometimes an open door is just an open door. It doesn't have to mean anything.
One of the girls, Lola, freckled and sunburned and wonderful, raises her hand. "Miss Val?"
"You know where the bathroom is," Val answers. "You don't have to ask when you need to go." It's almost time for pickup, which means she needs to get Poppy from the goat pen. The other five dusty and happy and tired campers are here with Val, finishing up in the stables.
"No!" Lola giggles shyly. "It's not that. Do you have any kids?"
An image flashes in Val's mind. A girl, even younger than these, her brown hair forever fighting to escape messy pigtails, with eyes so blue they break her heart. Val smiles. "Not yet, but I know there's one in my future."
"How?" another camper, Hannah, asks, wrinkling her nose beneath smudged glasses. Val resists the impulse to clean them for her. Independence is part of what her camps promise, even if it means dirty glasses. Val's been running the summer programs for Gloria's Ranch since she was twenty, and they're the absolute highlight of her whole year.
Val shrugs. "I've always known."
"But aren't you getting too old?"
Val lifts an eyebrow. Lola scowls and elbows Hannah, but Val shakes her head. "No, it's okay to ask questions. Questions are how we get to know the world. And the answer is, I'm not too old. Not yet."
Her heart ticks like a clock, but she still has time. Val's belief in her blue-eyed girl is as solid as her belief in gravity. The when and the how are questions she doesn't let herself ask. It's easy not to ask questions. Take the question, put it behind a door. Close the door. Leave nothing open. She is aware of the hypocrisy of always encouraging her students to ask questions when she denies herself the same freedom, but there's a whole door in her head just for the cognitive dissonance of Do what I say, not what I do.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Lola blurts out, and suddenly this interrogation makes sense. Lola's father finds excuses to linger at every drop-off and pickup.
"Only when I want to," Val answers. "Sometimes I have a girlfriend." Though boyfriend and girlfriend are generous terms for the relationships she allows herself to have.
Still, her answer has the desired effect of rapidly changing the subject as all the girls' eyes go wide. Val can see the follow-up questions bubbling, but they don't have time. She has to get to Poppy before-
"Damn it," Val whispers under her breath. Poppy's mother has already pulled up in a Mercedes SUV that has about as much functionality as the designer boots she sent Poppy in for the first day. And Poppy's still in the goat pen instead of the stables.
Val claps her hands. "Okay! Last one out of their barn clothes has to muck out Stormy's stall tomorrow!"
The girls shriek and dart away to remove the coveralls and boots Val gives them to protect the too-cute clothes their parents always have them wear. Val cuts across the dusty path to intercept Poppy's mom before Poppy hears what's about to happen.
"Hi," Val says. She can't recall the woman's name. She never can with other adults. It's hard to care.
The sunglasses come up, pushed onto carefully styled hair. "What's Poppy doing in the goat pen?"
"She's working with our baby goats, Luke and Leia, training them to-"
"I'm paying you for riding lessons!"
Parents always trot that out as leverage, but technically she isn't paying Val at all. Val doesn't get paid. She smiles politely. "You're paying for a week of day camp at Gloria's Ranch, which includes experiences with a variety of animals. And can...
The thing is, the doors were open that morning.
Val knows-she knows, she knows-that waking up to find both doors of their sagging cabin opened wide to the world is probably only because Dad wasn't sleeping well, and that she should tie a bell to his foot before bed tonight. Just in case.
But.
An open door is an invitation, she whispers to herself. And she keeps the doors to their cabin firmly closed all the time. She'll have one of the ranch hands rig up some sort of lock system, up high, where Dad won't be able to reach it.
That'll fix it. She can stop worrying.
She doesn't, though. She worries through the morning riding lessons, worries through lunch with the camp full of awkwardly pubescing little delights, worries through the early-afternoon group activities, more riding, cleanup. All her favorite things-especially the cleanup, knowing parents are paying a small fortune so their daughters can spend the week doing the chores Val hates most-are eaten up by the worry.
By late afternoon she's mostly shaken it off, though. Sometimes an open door is just an open door. It doesn't have to mean anything.
One of the girls, Lola, freckled and sunburned and wonderful, raises her hand. "Miss Val?"
"You know where the bathroom is," Val answers. "You don't have to ask when you need to go." It's almost time for pickup, which means she needs to get Poppy from the goat pen. The other five dusty and happy and tired campers are here with Val, finishing up in the stables.
"No!" Lola giggles shyly. "It's not that. Do you have any kids?"
An image flashes in Val's mind. A girl, even younger than these, her brown hair forever fighting to escape messy pigtails, with eyes so blue they break her heart. Val smiles. "Not yet, but I know there's one in my future."
"How?" another camper, Hannah, asks, wrinkling her nose beneath smudged glasses. Val resists the impulse to clean them for her. Independence is part of what her camps promise, even if it means dirty glasses. Val's been running the summer programs for Gloria's Ranch since she was twenty, and they're the absolute highlight of her whole year.
Val shrugs. "I've always known."
"But aren't you getting too old?"
Val lifts an eyebrow. Lola scowls and elbows Hannah, but Val shakes her head. "No, it's okay to ask questions. Questions are how we get to know the world. And the answer is, I'm not too old. Not yet."
Her heart ticks like a clock, but she still has time. Val's belief in her blue-eyed girl is as solid as her belief in gravity. The when and the how are questions she doesn't let herself ask. It's easy not to ask questions. Take the question, put it behind a door. Close the door. Leave nothing open. She is aware of the hypocrisy of always encouraging her students to ask questions when she denies herself the same freedom, but there's a whole door in her head just for the cognitive dissonance of Do what I say, not what I do.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Lola blurts out, and suddenly this interrogation makes sense. Lola's father finds excuses to linger at every drop-off and pickup.
"Only when I want to," Val answers. "Sometimes I have a girlfriend." Though boyfriend and girlfriend are generous terms for the relationships she allows herself to have.
Still, her answer has the desired effect of rapidly changing the subject as all the girls' eyes go wide. Val can see the follow-up questions bubbling, but they don't have time. She has to get to Poppy before-
"Damn it," Val whispers under her breath. Poppy's mother has already pulled up in a Mercedes SUV that has about as much functionality as the designer boots she sent Poppy in for the first day. And Poppy's still in the goat pen instead of the stables.
Val claps her hands. "Okay! Last one out of their barn clothes has to muck out Stormy's stall tomorrow!"
The girls shriek and dart away to remove the coveralls and boots Val gives them to protect the too-cute clothes their parents always have them wear. Val cuts across the dusty path to intercept Poppy's mom before Poppy hears what's about to happen.
"Hi," Val says. She can't recall the woman's name. She never can with other adults. It's hard to care.
The sunglasses come up, pushed onto carefully styled hair. "What's Poppy doing in the goat pen?"
"She's working with our baby goats, Luke and Leia, training them to-"
"I'm paying you for riding lessons!"
Parents always trot that out as leverage, but technically she isn't paying Val at all. Val doesn't get paid. She smiles politely. "You're paying for a week of day camp at Gloria's Ranch, which includes experiences with a variety of animals. And can...
